The air was damp and heavy. Each step squelched against slick rock, and the narrow passage twisted like the throat of a giant serpent. Dim electric-lamps set by NDA workers lit the way, their LED glow casting eerie shadows on the dripping walls.

Ten hunters walked in a line, guns and blades strapped, armor clinking softly. The logo of Valkyria Fang, one of the most notorious guilds in the city, fluttered faintly on the back of one of their carriers.

Among them walked a man. Not a hunter. Just a supporter, whose job was to cook, carry supplies, polish armor, even shoulder spare weapons too annoying for the women to bother with. He was used to it. That was what a male presence in a dungeon party meant, but that wasn't all.

Officially, guilds framed it as practicality—support staff, expendable carriers, bodies meant to lighten the hunters' load. Most hunters scoffed at the darker rumors, claiming such men were there for logistics alone.

But everyone knew better. Expeditions into dungeons lasted days, sometimes weeks, and the women who fought on the frontlines demanded release in ways the guild rulebooks never mentioned.

The truth was whispered in corridors and dismissed in daylight, yet undeniable in practice: men like him were chosen for more than their ability to haul gear. They were there to be used—sometimes openly, sometimes behind the canvas walls of camp—then silenced with coin.

Guilds paid generously for their compliance, and most of these men, whether out of fear, resignation, or simple greed, never spoke a word.

He knew his role. He knew why he had been allowed to walk with Valkyria Fang. And he knew better than to pretend it was only about cooking and carrying steel.

But the focus wasn't on this male supporter.

It was on Tachibana Kyouka, the new prodigy intern of Valkyria Fang.

She walked near the middle, her eyes scanning, her steps steady. She was an intern, yes. But an intern who had already risen to A-rank, a feat so rare that even the most seasoned guild members eyed her with both awe and jealousy.

Still, her thoughts weren't on her surroundings.

Her lips tightened.

She remembered.

The memory of Ren surfaced. That night. The quiet, forbidden act. Her hand moving, his heavy breath, the heat of his body. She didn't want to admit it… but his physique, his body—it was nothing short of a masterpiece. The kind of sight that carved itself into memory, refusing to leave.

Her face heated.

"Oi, Kyouka."

A voice cut through her thoughts.

She blinked, glancing to her left. It was Selene, a short-haired warrior carrying twin axes. Her brows were drawn together, suspicion laced in her tone.

"You spacing out? Stay alert. Your eyes are more useful than any of ours in this place."

Kyouka stiffened. "…I wasn't spacing out."

Selene smirked. "Sure you weren't." She pushed past, her twin axes swaying at her hips.

Kyouka let out a quiet breath. She couldn't afford distraction. Not here. Not with this guild.

It had long been her dream to become a member of Valkyria Fang, a guild she had admired ever since she was a child. She had trained for it, lived for it, and looked forward to it for most of her life. Now that she had almost achieved that dream, Kyouka knew she couldn't afford to mess it up.

At the head of the line strode Nina Raj, one of the leaders of Valkyria Fang who was leading this group. She was a tall woman, black and brown hair tied high, her frame solid with years of combat. On her back rested a greatsword so large it could serve as a door for an ordinary home. And yet, she carried it with ease.

The path grew steeper, jagged, almost like climbing the insides of a mountain. Water dripped from rocks overhead, splashing onto armored shoulders. The air vibrated faintly with something distant.

And then—

"Stop."

Nina's voice was low but commanding. Everyone halted immediately. Even male supporter froze, clutching the packs tighter.

The faint sound reached them all now.

Clashing of steel. Explosions of magic. Screams.

Battle.

Nina narrowed her eyes. "…Scouts. Go."

Two lithe women with daggers darted forward into the shadows, silent as ghosts.

The others began preparing. Bottles were opened, pills swallowed. The air filled with the smell of herbs and bitter medicine. Strength-enhancing pills. Stamina restorers. Every expedition relied on them before a fight.

Nina herself sat down on a nearby boulder, pulling out a gadget that could sharpen the blade. The sound of steel against metallic gadget echoed harshly as she dragged it across her massive blade.

Ssshhhk. Ssshhhk.

Her greatsword gleamed sharper with every stroke.

Minutes passed before the scouts returned, crouching before Nina.

"Leader. It's the Scholars of Babel. They're engaged with some kind of… weird monsters. Misshapen, twisted things. The Scholars are losing ground."

At that, Nina lifted her head. A grin spread across her lips.

"Ha. Scholars of Babel." She spat to the side, mocking laughter in her tone. "Those magic-pussy suckers are getting torn apart? No wonder I hear no gunshots...they think all they need is their magic."

The women around her chuckled. Even Selene grinned.

Nina stood, resting the greatsword against her shoulder. Her eyes burned with cold amusement.

"Well. They're not our friends. No reason to help. Let's just take another route and try to find more about this dungeon and on our return trips let's all carry the bodies of dead monsters back to surface that these magic pussysuckers killed."

A chorus of nods followed. The Valkyria Fang members tightened straps, adjusted weapons, preparing to move in the opposite direction.

But then, a hesitant voice rose.

"…Leader."

It was Kyouka.

She looked uneasy, her hands tightening around the straps of her gloves.

"Wouldn't it be better if we… fought together? The monsters are dangerous. If we fight side by side, we might—"

The words cut off as Nina turned her gaze on her.

A slow smile tugged at the leader's lips.

"Oh, newbie." Her tone was mocking, but not cruel. Almost… amused. "Since you're new, I suppose you don't know this yet."

She took a step closer.

"It's not the monsters we should be most careful of."

And then, to everyone's surprise, Nina began unbuttoning her jacket.

The damp air chilled her exposed skin, but she didn't flinch. She pulled the cloth aside, revealing her chest.

Gasps rose among the newer members.

Kyouka's eyes widened.

There, carved across Nina's left breast, stretching down toward her ribs, was a ghastly scar. It was in the shape of a tiger's maw—deep, brutal, clearly life-threatening once upon a time.

Nina tapped the scar with a gloved finger.

"Guess where I got this?"

Kyouka remained silent, lips pressed tight.

"Not a monster." Nina's smile sharpened. "Not a dungeon."

She buttoned her jacket back up, covering the scar once more.

"This? Was a gift. From one of those so-called friends in another guild."

The air grew heavier. No one spoke.

Nina's gaze swept over them, her voice cold as steel.

"There are no friends in other guilds. No allies. No brothers and sisters. Only enemies… and strangers."

She hefted her greatsword onto her shoulder, the weight settling with a heavy thunk.

"The only family you have is Valkyria Fang. If we help them now...yes one or two of their members will be saved but we will have to share the spoils after we go back to city. This is a dirty work...we are not here to become heroes. We are here to earn money...and fuck shit up."

The silence that followed was broken only by the steady drip of water.

Selene raised her axe. "Strength in the Hunt, Glory in the Fang."

Others echoed, "Strength in the Hunt, Glory in the Fang."

Their voices filled the cavern, harsh and unified.

Kyouka remained quiet, her eyes lingering on Nina.

The scar. The words. The bitterness laced in them.

She understood now, at least partially, what it meant to be a hunter. it was not the heroic job she imagined it was and the truth was right in front of her.

But still—

Her gaze drifted toward the echoing sounds of the Scholars' desperate struggle somewhere in the darkness and she turned back and followed Nina knowing, she would be one of the cause for their death.